The Photographer

The camera can make for a great tool. Even knowing the camera is there, it still holds many voyeuristic qualities. It is like another person looking into the lives of both the subject and the photographer. A photograph reveals the soul of the photographer and the flesh of the subject. A picture of a nude woman is not simply pornography or art; it is the reflection of the artist's attitude and feelings towards the subject. Even the crassest of pornographic pictures tells us a tale deeper than its face value suggests. One only has to look beyond the banality of the picture and study the angles, the focus and the framing to read something about the artist's soul. A lone subject, a girl standing in any room in any part of the world, submits her flesh to the will of the photographer. Her hair is cared for, washed and brushed. It falls off her head like shimmering golden silk. Even the slightest breeze carries the strands as if dancing with them. Small blue bows that match her eyes hold the hair into two shoulder length pigtails. Everything about her face is perfect, at least to the artist. He walks around, surveying his subject, taking in every color, every curve, and every inch of her body.

A small white shirt, tied up near her breasts, revealing her flat, tight stomach, clings to her perky little breasts like a second skin. The white cotton is perfect, a white that defines the color itself. A small pleated plaid skirt hangs off her hips, hanging down just low enough to hide her white cotton panties. A mouse sneeze would be enough to reveal a hint of the white cotton that presses against her forbidden skin. Her long legs extend down from her skirt, covered only by some white knee high socks and a pair of cute black and white saddle shoes. She gives a shy giggle as he moves closer to her, camera in hand.

He ran his free hand lightly down her left arm. She shudders slightly when he touches her, but invites it. Slowly, he runs his finger tips around her body like a blind man trying to see. His fingers take in the softness of her skin, the length of her stomach and back and find the sensitive spot near her hips. She bites her lip in excitement as his fingers draw around the elastic of her underwear. He draws his hand down her hip and under her skirt. He does not violate any of her private parts, but simply runs his fingers under the elastic that hugs her hips. His knuckle lightly touches her skin above her now slightly excited pussy. It seems this is the last of his explorations as he steps away from her, looking at her through the camera.

He snaps a few pics before she is ready or posing. They are candid, capturing a bit of her true nature, the real subject. There will be almost nothing of the artist in these pics; they will allow one small look from neutral eyes. He starts to direct her like a puppet. She bends to his will, accepting every command like a soldier in battle. She has forgone control and allows her body to be his canvas and paint. A rush of excitement and fear flows through her body as she becomes his slave.

With nothing but a simple chair as a prop, he directs her into many different poses. She sits on the chair, legs crossed and hands folded in her lap like a proper woman. He snaps full pictures then close-ups of her body. A colorful macro shot of her hands folded against the bright plaid, an extreme close-up of the white cotton shirt with the outline of her small nipples underneath, even shots of her eyes and lips so close they look like alien planets. He looks for all the sensuality of his subject, even in the most benign places.

He switches positions, each one becoming more and more revealing. Her legs spread open with the skirt hanging down covering even the slightest shot of her underwear, her slightly bent over the back of the chair, still teasing a sight of white cotton. He closes in on her, tilting the camera under her skirt and snapping some revealing pictures of the white cotton clinging so tightly to her now excited flesh. The underwear formed perfectly with her round ass and you could make out the small bump below that shaped her genitals. In his close ups, he even caught a bit of moisture building up on the fabric, the result of her excitement.

Pulling the camera out from under her skirt, he runs it up over her ass and up her back, snapping pictures the whole way. His body moves closer to hers and she feels his crotch press against her ass as he takes a shot over her shoulder, down towards her breasts. He can smell her sweet, fruity perfume as he clicks away with his camera. She pushes her ass slightly back, rubbing it gently against his crotch. For the first time, she hears him give a slight breath of excitement but then composes himself to shoot. From behind, he snaps pictures of her hands grasping the back of the chair for support as she becomes more and more excited.

With a single motion, his free hand unties the front of her shirt, letting the cotton fall loosely over her small breasts. Her erect nipples show quite plainly through the thin cotton. Her inhibitions left the room and she indulged in the sinful decadence of the moment. She arched her back, pushing her breasts out more and bumping her ass against him again. She looked up and started to lightly lick his neck, but he immediately pulled away. He had no intention of allowing her control here. He flipped her back around and sat her in the seat, legs spread and shirt dangling. He snapped some pictures of her belly, moving up to her chest.

He got down on his knees and shot some close ups of the flesh revealed under her shirt. Her heart was thumping as he started to move the shirt aside, revealing her naked breasts. They were nice, perky, round breasts with small erect nipples. She bit her lip as he snapped pictures of her them. She breathed heavier in pleasure as he started to tease them with his free hand. Nothing blatant, just light touches that seemed to increase her arousal ten fold. She moved her right hand toward her crotch, but her grabbed it and shook his head. He put down his camera and slid both hands up each leg and pulled at her underwear. He slipped them down just below her knees.

He pushed her thighs together and spread her feet causing the underwear to tighten and stretch in place. He posed her with her arms wrapping around her back, covering her breasts. He snapped pictures of her, asking her to make different teasing faces; some that looked like shock and surprise and others that looked sensual and inviting. She would shift her hips slightly and feel how wet her pussy had become and her face turned slightly red. All she wanted was too get naked and fuck the shit out of him, but she was his little slave model. She did what he said, posed how he wanted her and let the sex build up inside her.

When she finally got down to just her socks and shoes, he started moving to more blatant sexuality. He snapped pictures of her playing with her nipples, some of her hand covering her naked pussy, fingers spread in such a way that it revealed nothing while telling everything. She would try to rub herself, but he would catch her and stop it. The little hints of pleasure only increased her now growing frustration. She would give anything to just rub her clit; it would only take 30 seconds to finish, just half a minute to release her frustration. He, however, was not an obliging type and continued his work.

He had her move her hand away from her vagina, both for his needs and to prevent her from releasing herself. He snapped macro shots of her lips and clit; extreme close-ups that revealed how swollen and wet she really was. Her clit stood up, begging attention of any type. When he finished, he had her bend over the seat again. She was so sensitive and needy at this point that moving her thigh gave her some slight relief. He pushed on the arch of her back, thrusting her ass higher into the air. Her body vibrated with need as he started snapping pictures of her again. If this kept up any longer, she was going to run into the dressing room and finish herself off. But that wasn't going to be necessary.

He started running his fingers down her back, snapping pictures the whole way. She felt his hand move closer and closer to her ass and she trembled in excitement. Instinctually, her breath got heavier and tiny beads of sweat formed on her body. She felt like a kid on Christmas morning as his hand moved further and further down her back. Every single nerve in her body beckoned the hand just a few more inches. Lightly he swept across her ass and down to her inner thigh. Just the warmth of his hand there shook her into violent pleasure. He rubbed her inner thigh, pulling slightly on the skin so she felt it all over. His hand moved up to where she really wanted it to be and hovered over her soaked lips. He ran his middle and ring fingers down, from above her clit to where the hood started then spread them, tracing them along her outer labia and up to the bottom of her ass.

His teases and taunts were getting worse than ever. His fingers lightly traced her ass cheeks and moved in toward the middle. As he got closer and closer to her ass hole she gripped the seat she was bent over tightly. She could almost feel them teasing her sensitive little hole when he stopped. He wasn't touching her anymore. She almost cried out in the pain of frustration. Then she felt something, his hot breath. He was behind her, teasing everything with his breath, letting every body part know that his wet tongue was only centimeters from the flesh. He let the very tip of his tongue touch the inside of her thigh. As accidental as it seemed, everything he did was with purpose. She could feel how warm and wet his tongue was, knowing how much he desired to taste her flesh. It felt as if she was going to explode from the inside out at any moment.

He must have put down the camera because she felt both hands on her ass cheeks. He spread them open and she felt something wet run down the small of her back, creeping toward her ass. It was his saliva, inching like an ever expanding worm toward that sensitive spot. It hit like a ton of bricks, just as she was expecting the light tickle of his spit on her hole, he buried his face into her ass and started licking violently. The complete shift in mood took her by surprise and she quickly lost control of herself. His tongue slid all around her ass causing her to scream in excitement. She felt his fingers push into her pussy and that was about all she needed, she felt her orgasm coming on, taking control of her and she wanted it to. Her fingers clutched the seat back harder and she let go of everything inside her. The warmth welled up inside her and the explosion was only seconds away when he stopped.

Frustration like nothing she ever knew took the place of her pleasure instantly. She screamed out in anger at him, but it was no good. This was all she needed; she pulled away from the chair and started to turn to face him. He quickly grabbed her arm and pushed her back into the seat. She sat, facing him, anger flowing through her like poison. She had to finish, it was urgent. She tried to touch herself, but he stopped her. She pleaded with him but he stood there, frustratingly stoic. In a calm manner, he slowly let go of her arm and got down on his knees. He pushed her legs up and started teasing her clit with his tongue and lips. It was as if his saliva was the antidote for the poison that infected her. She stroked his hair as he gently worked his masterful tongue all over her overly sensitive clit.

This was a different mood, the anticipation and frustration subsided as his repetition pushed her more slowly toward ecstasy. Where she felt a sudden need for release before, this was calm, soothing and still pleasurable. Her toes curled and she grasped his hair tighter as she once again felt that familiar sensation building inside. In response to her building orgasm, he became very quick with his laps, almost flattening her clit with his tongue. She moaned over and over as it built more and more. She closed her eyes and her body started to let go again, but this time it wasn't stopping. He wasn't stopping. He licked more and more and she let go. Wave after wave of orgasm pumped through her body. Her toes curled as tight as they could and her legs tensed up. She had no control over her body anymore. Sweat ran down her flushing skin as her orgasm pounded every nerve in her body.

As the wave slowed, she started coming back to reality. He hadn't stopped licking, and she had become so sensitive it almost hurt to be touched. This didn't bother him; he just kept licking away and shoved his fingers inside her. She felt another orgasm building, quicker than before. Again, this time smaller, her body surrendered to pleasure and she came. This time, he became gentle. She sucked air like she had been drowned and was just coming out of it. He pulled away and let her regain reality. As the world came back into focus, she heard that familiar sound of clicking. He must be capturing the moment, capturing the pure desire that painted her body. When she opened her eyes, she could see he was sweating pretty badly too; his lips looked rather raw and red.

He finished clicking away and handed her a towel. She mopped up all the sweat on her body and started dressing herself in her regular clothes. Packing away the outfit she wore, she looked at him and asked about his pleasure.

"This isn't about pleasure, mine or yours. This is about art. This is about photography. Don't make a mistake about it; I have no interest in being pleasured by you."

She stood there shocked by his words. Her legs still trembled from the experience, but now there was something else inside her. Fury filled her from the feeling of being used. Something about his voice and the words he used angered her. As the anger welled up, he started snapping pictures of her again. She demanded he stop, but he reminded her of the contract she signed. As long as she stood in his studio, he was allowed to photograph her. This was easily remedied; she walked out of the studio brimming with anger. Later on that night, he reviewed the photos, masturbating to them. It was the shot of her face tight with anger and frustration that made him ejaculate. It was his power that turned him on and nothing else.